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[NTU] [ARC-22] Chapter : 303
🕑 Added 2025-04-26 14:42:32 +0000 UTCUnder a blood-red sky, Konan gazed coldly at the crows circling around her.
Their harsh cries echoed in her ears, filling the air with a sinister noise.
Without warning, several groups of crows suddenly swooped toward her.
Swish!
With no hesitation, thin sheets of white paper peeled away from her body, folding midair into sharp paper swifts that shot toward the incoming crows.
"What a deceptive genjutsu," Konan muttered, frowning.
As soon as her paper swifts touched the crows, they burst into flames.
But just as the paper began to burn, a series of violent explosions erupted.
This illusion—subtle yet deadly—was unlike anything Konan had ever encountered.
Though she had studied information about the Uchiha, wary of the so-called "Madara," she had thought some of the tales exaggerated—fabrications by desperate mercenaries eager to earn a reward.
Now, firsthand, she realized the warnings were all too real.
Before she could strategize a counter, her floating body suddenly disintegrated into countless sheets of paper, drifting eerily through the sky.
"This technique..."
Hidden deep within the illusion, Itachi lashed out with a blade at what should have been her neck—only for the target to scatter into paper fragments.
He clicked his tongue softly.
Immune to physical attacks... troublesome.
Ninjutsu might have been his next choice—but with her mastery over explosive tags, most of his techniques could easily be countered.
Was it time to use his Mangekyō?
His fingers brushed over his eyes thoughtfully.
Meanwhile, Konan felt a jolt of unease.
The silent alarm she had planted on Nagato had triggered—something had gone wrong.
Panic surged through her.
Nagato’s condition made him vulnerable—there was no time to waste.
"Forgive me, Pakura."
Konan hardened her resolve. In her heart, Nagato came first.
Her body swiftly reassembled in the air.
Though she couldn’t locate Itachi, she wasted no time—her hands flew through a rapid sequence of seals.
With each completed sign, sheets of paper detached from her body like autumn leaves—and then began to multiply at an alarming rate.
"This crazy woman..."
For the first time, a crack appeared in Itachi’s normally emotionless expression.
The countless white sheets—marked ominously with black seals—continued to multiply.
And at the center of every sheet was the character for "explosion."
A bead of cold sweat trickled down Itachi's forehead.
Without hesitation, he realized that even his Susanoo might not survive this onslaught.
Thousands? Tens of thousands? No—hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions of explosive tags.
Was she trying to blow up the entire battlefield?
"Yamato, fall back!"
Maintaining the genjutsu to delay Konan, Itachi immediately sent a warning to Yamato—and then turned to flee without a second glance.
"Huh? What's going on?"
Yamato, locked in battle with Pakura, was bewildered.
Itachi had the upper hand—or so it seemed.
Why was he retreating the moment those sheets of paper appeared?
"Exploding tags."
"What?"
Yamato blinked, confused.
He knew Konan used explosive tags before, but surely a few tags weren’t enough to force a retreat?
"All of them are exploding tags."
Itachi’s grim explanation struck Yamato like a thunderclap.
When Yamato took a closer look, his face turned ghostly pale.
If even a fraction of those tags detonated, not just them but the entire forest would be obliterated.
Without another thought, he sprinted after Itachi with everything he had.
Even Pakura, sensing something catastrophic, abandoned the fight and fled in the same direction.
No one cared about enemies or grudges anymore—everyone was running for their lives.
"She's insane!" Yamato shouted, stumbling as he nearly lost his footing.
His back was drenched in cold sweat.
They had barely gotten 300 meters away—nowhere near a safe distance.
Konan was still at the heart of it all.
Did she plan to die with them?
Desperation flooded Yamato.
—
"I really came at the wrong time, didn’t I..."
A familiar voice sounded beside Itachi.
Tōshirō had just landed, only to hear Yamato's muttered despair.
Before he could ask, his instincts screamed in warning.
"Shit!"
From the corner of his eye, he saw it—a white shockwave, surging outward like a tidal wave, flattening everything in its path.
An explosion on a catastrophic scale.
Without hesitation, Tōshirō grabbed Itachi and Yamato by the shoulders, preparing to use the Flying Thunder God Technique to escape.
Just then, he spotted Pakura nearby—too close to survive.
Time was running out.
"Susanoo!"
Gritting his teeth, Tōshirō summoned a skeletal red arm from his body, snatching Pakura to his side.
A protective ribcage enveloped them all.
Cough!
Blood splattered from his mouth.
Even with Susanoo's protection, the shockwave's power was overwhelming.
The ear-splitting roar of the explosion followed a beat later, shaking the heavens and splitting the earth.
A towering mushroom cloud bloomed in the distance, swallowing the landscape.
Had they been even a second slower...
There would have been nothing left of them.
"Ah! This... this is the art I seek!"
High above, Deidara, freshly rescued from the illusion by Sasori, gazed at the black-and-red mushroom cloud blooming in the distance. His voice trembled with admiration.
"What kind of fleeting spectacle is this supposed to be?"
Standing atop the iron sand conjured by his Kazekage Puppet, Sasori sneered with visible disdain.
To him, only creations that withstand the test of time could truly be called "art."
But he had little desire to argue with Deidara—the hot-headed youth wouldn't understand anyway. Sasori instead turned his focus toward the distant mountaintop, frowning.
"Is that... a snake? Orochimaru?" He muttered in surprise. "I thought that slimy bastard wasn't part of this mission."
Orochimaru was technically still a comrade, but he'd been assigned to another mission by their leader. His presence here was suspicious—especially so close to the leader’s physical body.
"Come on, Deidara. Save your breath on your so-called useless 'art'—let's go check on the leader," Sasori said curtly.
He was more curious about the leader’s situation than wasting time debating art.
"You dare call it useless?" Deidara shot back, visibly annoyed.
"This fleeting brilliance is transcendence! Sublimation!"
But Sasori was already controlling the Kazekage Puppet to fly toward the mountainside, completely ignoring him.
"Tch... Sasori-dana just doesn't get it!" Deidara muttered under his breath.
Gazing longingly at the smoke and dust lingering in the sky, he vowed silently, 'One day, I’ll create a work of art even more dazzling, even more perfect than this!'
"Hey, wait for me!" he shouted, chasing after Sasori.
—
Soft, delicate snowflakes had begun to fall unnoticed from the sky.
"This time... that was seriously close," Toshiro muttered, exhaling deeply.
The forest, created earlier with his Wood Release, now lay under a thin, pristine blanket of white.
Retracting his Susanoo, Toshiro turned to Pakura, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"You really did a number on me, woman," he grumbled, glaring at her without sympathy.
Even protected by Susanoo, the sheer impact of the explosion had left him bruised. Pakura, with far less physical endurance, was in far worse shape.
"Hmph!"
"No one asked you to save me!" Pakura snapped, clutching a nearby tree trunk for support and stubbornly turning her head away.
"Oh, so now I’m the bad guy for saving you?"
Furious at her attitude, Toshiro stormed over.
"What do you think you're—"
Smack!
A sharp, crisp sound echoed as he landed a light slap on her rear.
"Idiot!"
Pakura’s face turned crimson—partly from pain, mostly from humiliation—as she covered her bum.
"Itachi, Yamato, take her and find a place to hide," Toshiro ordered, ignoring her glare. "Stay out of the fight ahead."
Through the thinning smoke, he could just make out movement on the mountain summit. Given Yamato’s strength, Toshiro figured it was better they stayed out of what was coming.
As for Pakura? He wasn’t worried. He had marked her. Even if she ran to the ends of the earth, she wouldn't escape him.
Still, the slap had felt oddly satisfying...
"...Understood," Itachi said calmly, giving Toshiro a long look but choosing not to question him.
Swish!
In a flash, Toshiro was already nearing the heart of the explosion.
"This Konan woman..." he muttered, picking up the Kusanagi lying in the snow. "She's ridiculously loaded."
Before him was a massive crater nearly 200 meters wide, the soil at the center fused into crystalline glass.
He couldn’t help but marvel—just how many explosive tags had she unleashed at once?
Shaking his head in awe, Toshiro quickly bounded toward the mountaintop.
—
"I'll be taking your eyes now."
Obito arrived at Nagato’s hideout just in time to witness a grim scene.
A long, slimy tongue, crimson as blood, was coiled around Nagato’s throat—its other end connected grotesquely to Orochimaru’s mouth.
The serpent-like figure drew closer, his vertical pupils glinting with twisted greed and satisfaction.
Although the Four Symbols Seal hadn’t fully cut off Nagato’s chakra, it was enough to prevent him from wielding the Six Paths’ powers—at least for now.
Orochimaru was a heartbeat away from claiming the prize he'd long coveted.
"Obito!"
Black Zetsu’s voice rang out urgently as he burst onto the scene, abandoning all pretense and shouting his real name.
Obito didn’t waste a second.
If Orochimaru stole the Rinnegan, everything—everything—would fall apart.
Whoosh!
Just as Orochimaru's clawed fingers reached for Nagato’s eyes, a sudden gust cut through the tension.
"Not good," Orochimaru hissed, instincts screaming at him.
Without hesitation, he swung his Kusanagi in a vicious arc toward Nagato’s neck—ready to sever his head entirely if it meant no one else could have him.
But the sword met only air.
Before he could process what had happened, a black iron rod drove mercilessly toward his skull.
Puchi!
At such close range, even Orochimaru’s grotesquely resilient body couldn’t evade.
The spike punched straight through his head—yet, unbelievably, his form dissolved into a slithering puddle of mud, reforming moments later.
Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!
Snarling, Orochimaru lashed out with a flurry of serpents from his left arm, thick-bodied and venomous, all aimed at the newcomer.
Meanwhile, his right arm contorted unnaturally, slithering past Nagato’s feeble defense toward his back.
At the same time, Orochimaru’s elongated tongue yanked Nagato from the life-support machine and flung him toward the Kusanagi sword.
"Hmm...!"
Choked and disoriented, Nagato let out a muffled grunt.
Even under the heavy seal, he fought desperately for balance, blindly swinging the black rod in his hand to knock away the deadly sword.
He only needed a few more seconds—just two breaths—to break free from the sealing jutsu.
But would Orochimaru give him even that much time?
"Heh heh heh..."
Orochimaru’s laughter slithered through the ruined air.
"Let’s see who’ll come save you now."
